


Astrogation

by SkyScribbles



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Male Jedi Knight/Theron Shan, Force Ghost(s), Force Visions, Gen, Mentioned Female Revan/Carth Onasi, My Revan is a disaster, Star Wars: The Old Republic - Knights of the Fallen Empire, Star Wars: The Old Republic - Shadow of Revan, The Imposwtor does not exist, Time Skips, and my knight is very tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyScribbles/pseuds/SkyScribbles
Summary: Revan dies on Yavin IV. But her Force ghost isn't going anywhere. She began this fight three centuries ago, and she's seeing it through to the end - and if that means she has to haunt the Alliance Commander, so be it.





	Astrogation

‘I have to admit,’ Zeth says, ‘I’m not entirely sure why you’re still here.’

He isn’t used to this kind of vivacity from Force ghosts. Granted, his only experience is with Master Orgus, but his dead master’s sporadic appearances over the last few years have always been - well,  _ghostly._ Orgus has a gravity about him when he appears, something ethereal about his voice and his manner that never existed when he was alive.

Revan – no, not Revan, she asked him not to call her that – isn’t like that. She’s movement and presence and energy, flitting from one corner of the ship to run her hands over every item that looks marginally interesting (she can’t touch them, of course, but she trails her fingertips over their outlines all the same.) Zeth has a feeling she’d be bouncing on the chairs if she could. And she hasn’t stopped smiling since she stepped away from her lightsaber-riven corpse on Yavin, met his eyes, and told him she was coming with him.

Anyone who is this cheerful about fighting Vitiate is either faking it or a fool. And seeing as this woman was once an expert strategist who conquered half the galaxy, Zeth strongly doubts that she’s a fool.

Revan – _Kessany,_ her name is Kessany – grins at him. ‘Really? I can see exactly what’s going on between you and that SIS agent, even if his mother can’t. That’s the descendant of one of my best friends you’re eyeing up, and I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure you’re treating him right.’

She turns in a circle, running an appraising eye over the _Defender’_ s interior. ‘It’s nice, this ship. Bit tidy, though. We always kept a bit of mess around on the Ebon Hawk – it adds character.’

Zeth leans against the railing that runs around the central stairway, frowning as he watches her. ‘When Vitiate took control of my mind, it took everything I had to get back on this ship and fight him again,’ he says. ‘It took everything for me to come to Yavin.  His presence was everywhere, like...  like claws against my skull. I felt sick. I wanted to turn and run. And I’m not sure I believe that you’d put yourself through that just to keep an eye on my…’ Aware that his cheeks are heating, he glances away. ‘My. Um. Relationship. Wherever it’s going.’

Kessany materialises at his side and claps an incorporeal arm around his shoulders. ‘Word of advice? That ‘no attachments’ thing in the Jedi Code - it's nerfshit.’

This pearl of wisdom imparted, she takes a step back – and for the first time, her smile shrinks a little. ‘And you’re right. Much as I enjoy watching you and Theron get awkward and flustered around each other, that’s not why I’m here. How’d you feel if you died, right now?’

‘I –’ Zeth stares at her. ‘I don’t follow.’

‘This galaxy’s on its knees, and Vitiate’s standing above it, sword ready to fall. You’re the one person who might stand a chance of saving anyone, saving anything, and Vitiate’s hurt you more than you thought it was possible to be hurt. You need to see him gone. For your sake, for everyone’s.’ She’s still smiling, but there’s a stillness to her features that’s deeply, painfully haunting. ‘Just thinking about him hurts and the last thing you want to do is fight him, but you do, you pull yourself together and you get ready to face him – and then you die. When everyone’s looking to you.’

She shrugs. Drums her fingers soundlessly against the railing. ‘Could you leave?’ Knowing that you failed them?’

‘No.’ It doesn’t take any thinking about. ‘I couldn’t.’

‘And if someone appeared three hundred years later, someone kind and strong who might just stand a chance of ending this – if you looked at them and felt hope fiercer than anything you thought you’d ever feel again – you’d stick with them. You’d do whatever you could.’

She punches his arm, the way Kira does when she’s teasing him, and there’s a bizarre moment of watching her fist pass through him. ‘I don’t know if I’m going to be any help, Zeth. But I can tell you what I know about how to fight this bastard, I can try to help you get stronger, and I can be an extra person here to pick you up and dust you off when it gets rough.’ Her grin flickers wider. ‘And I can give you pointers on how to keep your love life under the Council’s radar, too.’

He’s blushing again. He knows he is. But he straightens up, smiles at her, and nods.

‘Then I’m glad you’re here.’

* * *

She’s with him, from then on. She’s with him on Ziost, never visible, but _there,_ a sharp glow in his mind that keeps Vitiate at bay. She’s with him on Marr’s flagship, clenching her fists and choking back tears and whispering, ‘Not you too. Not you. I was meant to stop this. I’m sorry, Zeth, I’m sorry.’ She’s with him on the Spire, and he can feel her strength behind his arms as he plunges both lightsabers into Valkorion’s body.

But then he’s waking up in a jagged world of visions and darkness, and Valkorion’s voice is a cold purr in his ear. His crew lie scattered on the ground before him, and he’s howling their names but Kira stares blank-eyed at the sky and T7’s a ragged shell of metal. And then he turns and sees another body, red jacket smeared with blood and ash, yellow-green eyes empty, empty, and Zeth’s on his knees and seizing Theron’s shoulder but there’s no response and he doesn’t know if he can even breathe any more –

‘That’s _enough.’_

Zeth blinks. Valkorion is gone. His crew, Theron – they’re shimmering out of sight. The night sky and the grey rocks are shifting, changing, warping into the metal walls of a ship.

Then there's a hand touching his shoulder, and he turns to see Kessany crouching beside him. She’s still translucent, but there’s colour in her, green eyes and brown skin rather than the washed-out blue of her ghostly form. Her shoulders are tense with anger, but her touch is soothing. His breathing steadies.

‘It wasn’t real,’ she says. ‘You know it wasn’t real. And you’re safe now.’

Zeth glances from side to side, taking in the battered chairs and holoterminal, the flickering blue lights. ‘Where are we?’

‘Still in your mind. And sort of in my mind, too. Most people just sleep when they’re locked in carbonite, but Vitiate – Valkorion, whatever the hell he’s calling himself now – forced your subconscious to become lucid. He wanted to play games with you. Break you down.’ The last words are half a growl. ‘Thankfully, your friendly neighbourhood ghost is a pretty talented telepath herself. I pulled you out of Valkorion’s visions, and into my own memories. He can’t reach you here.’

_Her memories._ A name from the old stories swims into Zeth's mind, and despite everything, he smiles. 'Is this the Ebon Hawk? I know Jedi archivists who would kill to be here.’

Kessany beams, jumping upright and waving her hands at the walls. ‘They've got good taste. So many people changed for the better on board this ship. It was a place of growth and forgiveness and sanctuary, and even if this is just a vision, it’s still got an aura in the Force. It’ll protect you. Vitiate’s never getting inside.’

There’s a seat a little way behind him, and Zeth sinks into it. ‘Thank you.’

She just nods, the tiniest dip of her head. ‘Now you’re here, he can’t keep you awake. You can sleep now. I’ll keep him away from you.’

Tiredness is already setting in, a soft fog tugging at his mind, dulling his awareness of his body. He tries to thank her again, but can’t quite form the words. So he closes his eyes and lets himself drift away into the quiet. In the last moment before he sleeps, he sees her, seating herself cross-legged on the floor and bowing her head, poised and ready. And, very dimly, he hears her speak.

‘Vitiate. Try to break him again, bastard, and I’ll break you.’

* * *

His head is very overcrowded once he wakes up.

It’s like one of those children’s holomovies, where someone has a little Sith ghost on one shoulder and a little Jedi ghost on the other, both of them whispering advice. Valkorion’s voice gnaws at his head, and Kessany snarls back, mocks him, cracks stupid jokes to make Zeth smile – and she often does make him smile, even if it’s just for a second. Most of the time, she’s a blessing; when Valkorion’s bickering with her, he’s probably not trying to worm his way inside Zeth’s brain (he can’t go through that again, he _can’t.)_ And it’s a relief to know he’s not alone in his body with the galaxy’s greatest horror. There’s someone else here too, someone who cares.

But oh, stars, he misses just being himself. He misses privacy and silence. The two ghosts' voices are constant, one of them or the other always hovering around him. And Kess is one of the most impulsive people he’s ever met, she’s instinct and momentum where he’s thought and caution and finally there’s a moment where he crams his hands over his ears and hisses, ‘Stars, Kess, will you just let me _think?’_

She stares at him, lips slightly parted. He’s not sure if she’s shocked or hurt or angry or all three. Then she takes a step back and vanishes.

He doesn’t see her again for a standard week. He’s in his new room on Odessen, and it’s nearly midnight, and he’s playing dejarik against his datapad while Theron lies silent and warm and still at his side. Then there’s a familiar blue flicker, and Kessany’s voice says, ‘You should be asleep.’

Zeth’s frustration with her has faded over the past few days, so he just swallows and flicks off the datapad screen. ‘I can’t.’

‘You won’t, you mean. You’re keeping yourself awake deliberately, and you need to stop.’ She moves a little closer. ‘Look, I get it. I’ve been here. I’ve lain awake next to someone I love, watching him sleep, terrified that the moment I let my guard down, a monster inside me is going to rear its head and take control of me. I’ve worn myself out worrying that one day I’d wake up and find him – gone. Torn apart. Because I relaxed. Because I wasn’t strong enough.’

Zeth closes his eyes. ‘If I let Valkorion hurt Theron –’

‘You can’t protect him by exhausting yourself. It’s not going to help you stay focused. And besides, even with everyone lumping the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, you don’t have to be focused all the time. Which... I know I haven’t helped with. I’ve pushed you harder than anyone. I’ve been looking to you to solve all the problems I left unfixed, and you deserve better. So much better. I’m sorry.’

He doesn’t have anything to say. Kess watches him for a moment, then reaches out, her hand hovering a little above his arm. The closest to a comforting touch that she can get. ‘Let your walls down. Just rest. If Valkorion tries to take your mind again, I swear I will find a way to rip him atom from atom.’

Zeth breathes in slowly and puts the datapad aside. ‘All right. Thank you.’ And then, because there’s something so desperately sad in her voice, ‘Who was he? The one you loved.’

‘His name was Carth.’ She lowers her arm, smiling again. ‘I wish history had remembered what he was to me. Most of the mistakes people made are hilarious, but that… that was important. That should have been remembered.’

She’s silent for a moment. Then she says, ‘You remember how you asked me why I was sticking around? After Yavin? I think… I think fighting Vitiate was only part of it. I had my time with Carth and then it just – ended. And now I’m still here, and he’s gone, and they say you become one with the Force when you die, but… no one really knows what that means, do they?’

‘You mean… you’re afraid that if you let go, if you let yourself die… he won’t be there?’

‘Him. All the others. I see them in you, you know? I see Carth in your carefulness, your stubbornness about doing things right. I see Bastila in how everyone looks at you to fix things and it weighs on you like a planet but you keep going anyway. I see her in Theron, in how he takes everything on himself and doesn’t show how much it hurts him. I see Juhani in your friend Lana, all that grace and passion mingled together. I see T3 in that little astromech of yours and HK in that bodyguard droid. And I’m a coward, and I’d rather watch echoes of the people I love rather than risk going somewhere where I might not even have that. I’m clinging to a half-life because I can’t bear to die and be without them. The truth is, I’m here because I’m weak and I’m selfish and I’m scared.’

And suddenly the woman who used to be Darth Revan is biting her lip and pressing a hand over her mouth. Zeth never realised that Force ghosts could cry.

‘He took that from me. He took my life with them. But you, Zeth – you get this. It’s yours. This time to just _be_ with the one you love, it belongs to you, and someone as small and pathetic as Vitiate does not get to take it from you.’

Before he can say anything, before he can even try to comfort her, she’s on her feet again, her outline melting into darkness. ‘Just… get some sleep, you great stubborn disaster. For my sake.’

She flickers out of sight, and the room is dark and quiet again.

* * *

Vitiate breaks him. The moment he touches the Eternal Throne, that all-too-familiar cold pressure slams against his mind again. And he’s so tired, so scared, and he doesn’t know how to fight it and maybe it was always going to end this way, and then everything’s fading out and he’s a million fragments drifting through space –

‘I told him what I’d do to him if he hurt you. He should have listened.’

There’s a brush at his consciousness, like a hand pulling him softly back together. Her voice sounds in the blackness again. ‘It’s okay. I’ll keep you hidden. Give you a disguise. He’ll never kill himself, never suspect himself. Just hold on, Zeth, I’ve got you.’

And – and he’s _him_ again. Frayed and aching and disguised as his worst nightmare, perhaps, but he’ll forgive Kessany for that last one. ‘Someday,’ he says, as she helps him through the tattered pathways of his consciousness, leads him to the holocron that gives him his own face back, ‘I’ll find some way to pay you back for all the times you’ve rescued me.’

She grins. ‘I’m pretty sure you could have rescued yourself. I just sped up the process a bit. Besides, if you find a way for us to tear Vitiate out of the galaxy forever – which I’m pretty sure you will – you’ll have paid me back a thousand times. It’s all I’ve wanted to see for centuries: that bastard finally getting the message that he’s not wanted.’

She gets her wish. She’s at his side when Valkorion dies, right there with Senya and Arcann and Vaylin, eyes narrowed with calm, furious purpose. Three hundred years of stored-up vengeance finally breaking free. And when it’s over, she drops to her knees, pushes her face into her hands, and just whispers, ‘Oh, _stars.’_

The day after it’s all over, once they’re back on Odessen and the celebrations are done and Zeth’s finally letting himself believe that his greatest demon is dead for good, she blinks into view while he’s meditating out in the woods. And from the way she smiles at him, he knows.

‘You’re leaving,’ he says. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Well, after careful consideration, I decided you’re good enough for Theron. So yeah.’ She flops down onto the grass beside him, sprawling out on her side. ‘Vitiate’s dead. He actually took the hint and died. I’ve finished the things I left undone, I’m over three hundred years old, and it’s time for me to grow up. Time for me to face what I should have faced when my body died on Yavin.’

‘You don’t have to go if you’re not ready.’

‘I’m not sure anyone’s ever ready for this. But you deserve to have a life without ghosts hovering over your shoulder, and shit, Zeth, I’m _tired._ I need to let go, even if I’m scared to do it.’

She rolls over onto her back, eyes flicking up towards the blue of the evening sky. ‘Besides. As an old friend told me a long time ago… Carth Onasi is waiting for me. And I’ve kept him waiting long enough.’

He almost begs her to stay. He’s not sure he’s ready to face the world again without a guardian ghost watching over him, keeping his mind safe. And – stars, it’s more than that, it’s not just because she protects him. It's because the moment she appears, smiling and laughing and making stupid jokes, things are always about to become a little brighter, a little easier, a little warmer. She’s his friend, and he’s going to miss her so much.

But she’s got people on the other side who probably miss her a whole lot more. So Zeth smiles and reaches out, placing his hand next to hers so that her fingertips just pass through his own. ‘I hope you find him. I think you will.’

Her fingers curl in a little. Like she’d take hold of his hand if she could. ‘I’ve finally got the guts to go looking for him. That’s a start.’

‘Kess, before you go… Ever since Yavin, you’ve been looking out for me. Giving me peace when Valkorion was clawing at my mind. Helping me see what really matters. I – I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’

‘It’s gone both ways, you know. You let me see the end of a three-century-old nightmare. And - shit, you united a galaxy, Zeth. Sith and Jedi, Empire and Republic and Mandalorians and stars know what else, working together. You didn’t even have to become a megalomaniac supervillain to do it, which definitely gives you one up on me. If anything’s given me hope for this disaster of a galaxy, it’s been seeing that.’ She springs to her feet. ‘Just… be happy, okay? Find a way to live for yourself. Be someone other than the legend. Maybe they’ll make you into a mask and a name, like they did with me, but while you’re here… take hold of every moment. Make it yours.’

Zeth thinks of Theron.He thinks of Lana and T7 and Senya and Koth and Torian and Vette and Arcann and every other bizarre friend he’s stumbled into over the past few years. A group as strange and precious as Kess's own crew, the friends she's told him about time and time again - and this time, there's no lurking Emperor to tear them apart. ‘I will. And Kessany– may the Force be with you.’

She gives him one last incorporeal punch to the arm. Then she steps away and walks into the centre of the clearing. The first stars of the evening are just beginning to pierce through the blue, and a wind's picking up, brushing against the against the trees without stirring her robes or her hair.

‘When Bastila remade me, she turned me into a scout. A navigator. I could look up almost anywhere and find my way by the stars.’ She tilts back her head and stretches out her fingers, tracing lines between the white pinpoints above them. ‘Who knows? Maybe they’ll take me where I want to go now.’

Zeth’s throat is very dry. He wants to tell her that she’s his friend, and that he doesn’t want to lose her even though he knows this is the right thing for her to do. He wants to tell her that his days are going to be strange without her laughter and energy. He wants to tell her that he’s proud of her, and that he knows she’s proud of him, too. He wants to tell her that she doesn’t need to worry, that he’ll take up her torch and keep the galaxy as safe as he can. But he can’t figure out how to say it right. And anyway, he thinks she knows.

She’s still looking up at the stars. Their light is passing right through her, shimmering on the edges of her outline. ‘And even if they don’t,’ she says softly, ‘they’re beautiful. I can’t wait to become part of them.’

It’s very quick. Very quiet. It’s like the wind finally catches her, like she’s become solid enough for it to take hold. Kess’s eyes never leave the stars as the blue of her body trickles away, as the glow of her presence in the Force dims. And then there’s a tug at Zeth’s gut, as if someone has reached into the Force and plucked out some deep and ancient part of it – and Kessany drifts apart and is gone.

Zeth rises, slowly, and stands there for a long time, looking between the stars and the place where she disappeared. He wonders if anyone else sensed her leaving. If every Force-sensitive in the galaxy knows that after years upon years of loss and betrayal and pain, Revan has finally found peace. He hopes so. She deserves to be mourned and remembered, remembered as  _her_ and not as some faceless Sith behind a mask.

He bows his head, and draws in a long breath. ‘I’ll tell you what you told me all that time ago,’ he says. ‘Get some sleep. You’ve earned it.’

Then he smiles, brushes at his eyes, and starts the walk back home.


End file.
